


Poker Face

by J3nna_R0ssity, KinaDarklight



Category: Sally Face (Video Games)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:33:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22124893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/J3nna_R0ssity/pseuds/J3nna_R0ssity, https://archiveofourown.org/users/KinaDarklight/pseuds/KinaDarklight
Summary: Sal has been living in the big city of Nockfell for a year now and has not once really visited any of the big attractions (aside from his workplace). On a work day his boss tells him to go ahead and take the rest of the day off since he always works so hard. Sal goes home unsure of what to do. He gets on his computer to find a activity and eventually comes across none other than The Red Eyes Casino.In this au Sal was in a car accident that paralized his mother and made his father's mentality act up (meaning that sometimes his brain won't work how it needs to) His face is damaged due to a lot of broken glass. His luck, as people call it, is however what saved him and his family.
Relationships: Sal Fisher & Larry Johnson - Relationship, Sal Fisher/Larry Johnson
Comments: 10
Kudos: 31





	1. Prologue

"I put on an unclear mask…"

A literal and metaphorical mask, which covers every scar from a tragedy Sal Fisher had miraculously lived through at just 3 years old. He was lucky to live, but hates himself for it, because of the price he paid. 

"Luck" became his least favorite word. But it wouldn't leave his side… it never has, maybe never will.

Any situation people would wish for better luck, pray for a miracle, take the Leap of Fate, or "leave it in God's hands", to no avail… Sal always gest the best outcome. Never got the wrong answer in school, always got that hard-to-reach prize from the crane machine. Never getting stopped at a red light, and always being that Nth caller on the radio to win a free trip to Cozumel. Anything that involved gambling, you might as well call it quits because Sal Fisher has it in the bag. Leaving you jealous and wishing you had THAT kind of luck. 

"Real Personality? Real instincts? Is this for real?"

A gift, a curse, a mix of both. Call it what you will. But to Sal Fisher, it's a fucking pain in the ass. Imagine yourself in his shoes; being and getting lucky in EVERY way possible… until someone wants to kill you because of it. 

"I'll steal the diamond before you notice"

The Red Eyes Casino in Nockfell, just like any other place of gambling, is where your luck is truly put to the test. Sal hopes that his luck would finally change. So he covered his clover-shaped birthmark with his blue side-braid, and entered.

"This way, that way, the devil's over there…"

The owner of the casino enjoys having such luxury. Larry's past life, unlike Sal's, was full of nothing but misfortune. One game of Black Jack was all it took for his own luck to change. Now, he's living off of the bad luck of others at the Red Eyes Casino. Especially the gambling addicts.

"You're playing into my hands…"

As long as everybody else loses, Larry Johnson selfishly wins, and wins, and wins. His world is now fueled by cash and other people's disappointments. 

"The perfect crime, that's what it is. Too much Vigor…"

But when one visitor succeeds, game after game, turn after turn…

"One pair? Two pair? No, is it a full house?"

The dealer nods. Another round won, and the three old grumps throw their hands up in the air and walk away in failure. Except Larry. He joined the game for the fun of it, making sure the dealers like Todd and Neil were doing their jobs "the right way". But after multiple games of Poker, he got curious at the remarkable wins by the young crossdresser in blue. Sal had more wins than anyone at the casino, even more than Larry. 

"Lend me your hand's inner studies…"

"Hold out the insufficient heart I wanna meet…"

"I want that kid… I want YOU…"

As Sal finishes his last game, he gets up to go back to his home. Little does he know…

"This way, that way, the devil is over here…"


	2. Chapter Two : "Red Eyes"

He was suddenly back in the third grade... Seated away from the other kids in a desk furthest from the chalkboard. A boy with a prosthetic facial mask, covering scars and bruises from a car accident at the age of 3. But the majority of his classmates saw Sal Fisher as a "freak", "Sally Face", "Michael Myers Junior", "Plastic Mug", and the list goes on. 

"Uh oh, look who's here again," said a regular bully, whispering to his friends in front of him. Some looked back with teasing smirks then glanced away chuckling to themselves. Sal could only do what his mother had told him to and ignored them. Which worked, until the same kid walked up to his desk, leaning over him to the side.

"Did I see you look at me, Saaaaally faaaace?" The boy sneered. He tried to make eye contact with the masked boy, but Sal turned away to the bully's annoyance.

"HEY FREAK! IM UP HERE!" The bully barked. Sal flinched from the yelling, then more gathered around him to hear the rest.

"P-please leave me alone.." He whispered, looking away. The bully rolled his eyes and knelt down to meet the smaller one eye to eye. Sal was a small child for his age, possibly due to his trauma and frequent lack of appetite.

"Ya know, why do you even come here if you KNOW I'm gonna keep bugging ya?" the taller boy asked sarcastically. He knew the answer, but before Sal did, he turned to his friends and scoffed, "Can you believe this little punk? Thinking he's good enough to come here? Or even try to make friends?" 

"Who would WANT to with that weird mask?"

"He's freaky"

"Yuck!"

More and more insults. More and more pins to his chest. Meaning more and more reasons for little Sal Fisher to not want to be known in the room.

"STOP!" He yelled out. The group laughed loudly at his cracked voice. Then the leader of the pack flicked the end of Sal's plastic nose with an amused smirk.

"Just give it up, you wimp! Nobody likes you!"

"Sal... You alright, laddie?"

A familiar voice brought Sal out of his daydreaming.

He blinked and glanced around, reconnecting himself back to reality after another flashback. Eggshell walls, a sturdy oak counter, and some fancy woven outdoor chairs surrounding some standard round tables. Sal was back at his job in Nockfell, back at work in a quiet, peaceful café on the outskirts of the city. Perfect place for an introvert young adult.

Ugh, not again... At least it was just a dream.

"Sally boy!" A few fingers snap in front of his prosthetic, making him flinch. But he relaxed after seeing his boss's face; Terrence Addison. The middle-aged Englishman burrowed his brow in concern.

"You've been zonin' out quite a bit, my boy. Have you been sleeping well?" He asked.

Terrence came back from the stock room and gently patted Sal on the back. Again, catching the Blunnette by surprise.

"Oop, sorry my boy! Ya know, it's been a slow day today. Why not head on home early?" he said.

Sal tilted his head looking at his boss with his long, blue ponytail swayed over his shoulder.  
"Uhhh, you sure?" He asked.

Terrence nods.  
"A hard workin' lad like yourself? You've more than earned it. Take a load off for this old Sailor, won't you son?" He said with a gentle squeeze on Sal's shoulder.

Seeing no reason to argue back, or to stick around, Sal nods and unties his green apron, putting it back on to the coat hanger. Closing time wasn't until 6 more hours when the streetlights turn on. The young man began to think of what to do with that spare time when he gets back to his apartment. A walk in the park? Well, that idea was scratched off the list as soon as Sal heard the construction trucks beeping not too far from the shop.

Yeah, no. Sensory overload isn't fun.  
Sal grabbed his cinch bag and turned to wave farewell to Terrence. Opening the exit door with a light bell ring and stepping outside into the breezy afternoon air. 

He noticed the brand new hand-painted sign leaning against the glass pane window of the corner store.

Addison Tea : Established Since the Dawn of Time

There is some truth to that. It is still a mystery how long tea brewing had been practiced in the Addison family. Terrence, being the fourth generation carrying the legacy, couldn't even tell. Surely before Nockfell was founded, or even before his ancestors came to the country. It never truly mattered though, as long as the city's residents still have their heart-warming brew served in a porcelain cup. Along with serving wholesome drinks, the calming atmosphere was what made Sal want to work there in the first place. But what made him want to settle in Nockfell of all places? It's not too different from New Jersey. Maybe its because it had a repair shop closest to him before his Nissan broke down?

The blunnette always walked to and from the corner store. No need to spend more money on gas or ride a bike when he could work his legs after standing all day at his job. Besides, his apartment was only a few blocks away. He'd much rather put his paycheck towards rent and food for himself and his pet cat. Eating out, shopping in the bigger parts of the city and other leisures made him tense up because of his prosthetic. But in the outskirts, where more people knew each other by name, it never bothered Addison's customers. It doesn't make Sal any less self-conscious, but he was happy to not be seen as a sideshow for once after living in Nockfell for a year.

The taller buildings of the inner city circle had cast shadows over parts of the neighborhood Sal passed by on his way home. Everything appeared darker. A likable setting for a pickpocket or thief to mug somebody walking alone. Sal has had a few close calls before. But he wouldn't dream of any thug trying to scare him into giving up his money with his prosthetic. The few that almost took his wallet had only gotten 3 feet away from behind him. With intentions of snatching Sal's hard-earned money, they would instead catch a glimpse of a cop car and walk the other direction. Even without a patrol car, this same thing had happened. Just lucky, perhaps.  
Sal finally made it to his room number, clicked the door open and his foot nearly tripped over a fat ball of fur in front of him.

"Agh-- Geez Gizmo! Are you trying to make me break my face again?" Sal scolded. The Maine coon stood on his seemingly stubby legs to stretch, letting out a low meow. The blunnette sighed, stepping over his four-legged companion and headed towards the lonely couch in the center of the room. His cinch bag was set against the wall as he plops onto the sturdy cushions. 

It felt weird being home so early. Sal is so used to just coming in at 9 pm, heating up some ramen noodles, spiced with paprika and a Diet Pepsi, catching up with some internet vlogs on his laptop (he only uses the television to watch national news), and falling asleep until he heads back to work the following morning. Now, he's stuck.

Too tired to walk, and not tired enough to sleep the rest of the day away. Sal heard some scratching noises coming from the corner and sees Gizmo pawing at his laptop.  
"Heyyy!" Sal shooed his cat from his device, picking it up and sitting back in the couch.

"Was that a hint to solve my boredom, buddy?" Sal mumbled. Not expecting a cat to answer. Though, sometimes he wonders if Gizmo is secretly an animal of higher intelligence.

Sal began navigating to the official visitor's page on his laptop and found dozens of shops in the city. Still not enthused to go out where more people could look at his shielded dace, Sal looked through Nockfell's Top 10 tab. To his surprise, Yazzy's was rated #3 to enjoy quality meals.

That was where Ash and I had our last date...

Ashley Campbell had been Sal's best friend before she became his first relationship. His ONLY relationship so far. The two had been close friends in high school then one of them (likely Sal) wanted to see how far they would go as a couple. Nothing felt awkward at first. The tomboy wasn't afraid to be herself nor be around somebody like Sal. If she could rock a leather jacket, ripped shorts over fishnet leggings, she saw no reason why Sal couldn't either. Ash never held Sal back from his occasional cross-dressing. He already had a slim figure, so his then-girlfriend urged him to find whatever felt right to him as she let him look through her wardrobe. Since she grew out of dresses, Ash let him keep a few. Sal wore each of them once or twice on days when he didn't give a fuck what others thought about it. It was thanks to Ashley that he had that little bit of self-confidence instilled. As they continued dating, however, their romance became more forced. Because neither of them had true romantic feelings as they thought. One night at Yazzy's, Ash broke the silence to tell Sal the truth. She was afraid of Sal reacting negatively and thinking he wasn't good enough to even date. Quite the opposite, actually. Sal let out a sigh of relief and confessed he felt the same way. They REALLY were made for each other, but not as lovers.

I haven't heard from her in months... I hope she's doing ok.  
Sal kept scrolling down the other names of businesses in Nockfell, but none of them caught his interest until--

RED EYES CASINO & RESORT : SPEND SOME, WIN ALL!"

A flashing thumbnail blinked from the computer screen, begging to be clicked. A casino? Sal had been in Nockfell for a year and had never heard of the city having another one since the other one was shut down. What was it called again?

Being curious enough, Sal double-tapped the thumbnail and was greeted by a logo of a cartoon drawn Red eye surrounded by dollar signs. The home page was heavily color-coded in every shade of red. Text boxes, tabs, and ads. Red all over which made Sal's eyes hurt.

Terrence would've done a better job on the color scheme.  
One tab with the caption Glimpse Into Your Visit was Sal's next click. A video box appeared on screen with the Red Eye logo in place of the Play button.

After a single click, Bruno Mars' "Twenty-Four Karat Magic" blared through the laptop speakers making both Sal and Gizmo jump. The blunnette toned down the volume and sees a handsome young man appear in the video. 

Dark brown hair tied back in a loose ponytail, a pencil-thin chin-strap beard with a triangular patch of hair on his chin, chiseled long nose and a noticeable gap between his two front teeth as he smiled through the camera. The gentleman, looking to be in his twenties, wore a-red attire. A fedora with small feathers on the side, cherry red suit with a maroon undershirt and a light red/pink tied pinned with the Casino logo. This guy had so much red on him that Sal could've sworn that the colors blended into the man's light tanned skin.

"Heyyyyy how's it going chaps and chappettes? This is Larry Johnson here, owning and running the one and only Red Eyes Casino & Resort!" The man, now identified as Larry, was holding the camera at a selfie angle. The quality of the video was decent for a smartphone.

"Thank you SO much for clicking on this video! Now you may have noticed while browsing our wonderful page that the theme is uh... Well, red. Heh!"

"No shit, Sherlock," Sal mumbled.

Larry continued as he pans the camera around the gambling floor. Where many slot machines and game tables could be seen. He turns the camera back to himself as he straightens his pink tie.

"So why is that? Well, here's a fun fact; In a few cultures like China and Greece, the color red is considered the color of fortune and good luck. As for the eye?"  
He gives a close-up view of his red eye pin.

"Looks like a cats eye gem, huh? Well, that particular gem is also considered good luck, while also said to dispel negative thinking and encourage more positive thoughts. So basically when you walk into my lovely establishment, you'll be surrounded by luck! Not just have it on your side. And if you do happen to take a chance with one of our quality machines and lose a few times, so what? Remember, negative thoughts, begone! Keep trying and trying until--"

Larry was interrupted by the loud alarm sound coming from one of the slot machines. To Sal's annoyance, he had to lower the volume once again. The camera suddenly shows another gentleman with his mouth agape after winning about $30,000. Larry excitedly gives him a side hug.

...

"Sal, you know you're my best friend right?" Ashley asked, sitting next to Sal on his lunch break at Addison's Tea.

"Of course. Why?" He asked

"Because what I'm wanting to ask-- no, actually what I'm going to tell you is best for both of us... Do you trust me?" Ash asked, fiddling with a napkin.

Sal became more concerned and studied his best friend's face before nodding.

Ash inhaled and said, "promise me you'll never come to my job."

The man's eyebrows were knit together... What job could She possibly want to keep Sal away from?  
"let me guess... You're working at a strip club."

That earned him a playful punch in the shoulder.  
"No!!! You know I'd sell my soul before I rip off my clothes for money," she said with a chuckle.

"But no, it's... Let's just say that it's the business policy... Ok?" Ash said softly. Very out of character for the bold tomboy.

Sal tilted his head and locked eyes with Ashley, reaching to hold onto her hand.  
"...if it's putting you in danger-"

"It isn't!" Ash interrupted.  
"Sal I promise! It's not a big deal."

"Then why are you telling me this? You visit ME during my lunch breaks," Sal said.

Ash sighed and shook her head. 

"Again, business policy... Don't ask, don't tell. Capeesh?" 

Sal drummed his fingertips into the table and nods slowly.  
"Just... Promise ME that you won't get hurt on the job... Ok?"

.....

Not wasting any more time, Sal sets his laptop aside and rushes to his bedroom closet.

Author's Note: I had just edited this chapter not knowing before how many grammatical and spelling errors there was XD. Let me tell ya, "Grammarly" is a magnificent tool for writing and quick spell-checking. (NOT sponsored)

Thanks to those who enjoy the story so far, as well as the lovely @KinaDarklight for letting me be part of it^^  
On to the next chapter then! Ciao~

-Jenna

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I clearly have trouble with the chapter setting but I really hope you guys enjoy! -Kina


	3. Chapter Three : "Casino Boogie"

"Don't ask, don't tell."  
  
"And don't worry… yeah right." Sal mumbled as he looked through his wardrobe. It isn't unusual for a man to have this many clothes unless it contains both men AND women's clothing.  
  
Why, though? Sal wouldn't give a clear answer. He isn't sure why it just feels natural for him to slip on a skirt and leggings, fix his hair, spray perfume and become a different version of himself. The few unbiased friends he had in high school would say that he "has mad confidence", "He looks better in a dress than most girls I've seen", or "he just likes to". Regardless of having no answer for himself, Sal knew for sure that it was neither confidence nor his sexuality that play a part in it. He just wishes that the first thing people would notice about him… is NOT the mask. It's just natural curiosity and Sal doesn't hold that against any stranger who asks about it.  
  
It is painful to explain the event that caused the deep scarring, bruises, and broken jaw fragments. He wouldn't mind telling that to someone with empathy and a kind heart. But to those who don't bother to know about him, to understand him, Sal tried to avoid at all costs. After years of coping, he learned how to gauge someone's reaction by the looks they give him, the way their eyes would narrow and faces cringe with disgust.  
  
Maybe that's it? Maybe cross-dressing was a way for Sal to try to draw attention away from his prosthetic. His past, and present. With the future holding more judgment, cringing faces and maybe 1% of compassionate folk that will still see him as a human being. He can't help having his face messed up, but at least he can look himself in the mirror of his apartment bathroom, with his blue hair in a French braid to the side and a red plaid strapless dress… to turn from a sad, broken man, to a sexy little slut.  
  
___________________________________________________________________________________  
  
  
"Hmm… Yeah, definitely feeling red today", Sal said to himself in the mirror. Gizmo hopped over and on top of the sink counter, knocking over a plastic bottle of perfume.  
  
"And THAT is why I only go to Bath and Body Works, Gizmo. The only place that sells Asshole-Cat-Proof bottles", Sal told his over-grown kitten.  
  
He bent down to pick up the thin bottle and sprays the scent over his left fingers. He padded the scent on the edges of his jaw, underneath his Adam's Apple, collar bone and wrists. When he first came out as a crossdresser, Ashley gave him a tip about perfume. At the time, he would spray every possible inch of his arms and legs, making him smell like the whole damn bottle. Until Ashley Campbell told him that "A little scent makes more sense", and that tip had saved who-knows-how-many noses scents-- I mean SINCE then.  
  
And it helped him save more on buying perfume.  
  
Sal pulled up his phone, locating the address of the Casino and called an Uber to go and pick him up outside the apartment complex. He stood waiting on the bench facing the vacant street. The temperature outside hadn't dropped since he left work. A peaceful, clear sky evening, laid-back and quiet. Just the way Sal likes to live and work.  
  
The driver of the black Mercedes-Benz drove up, pointing to the neon "Uber" sign to confirm he was the one called by Sal. The blunette approached the back seat door, opened and slipped inside crossing his legs. The driver looked through the rearview mirror at Sal with a blank expression.  
  
"Where to ma'am?"  
  
"The Red Eyes Casino please", Sal said in his normal voice. He looked back at the driver's face on the mirror, who seemed to have no care in the world about hearing another guy's voice from a feminine figure. Why be offended when Sal can count his blessings in not getting the usual Stank-Eye from a single stranger?  
  
The drive to the casino was unusually short. Three signs that were a mile apart announcing to the driver, "Fortune Awaits! Turn here to Turn your luck around!!" The same man with the same red suit and hat with the same Red Eye log was on each of them. The same text, same font, same font size, and same colors. Red, gold, black and orange. The sudden realization hit him when he looked down checking his knee-high boots. SAL is wearing red too.  
  
"Dammit", he swore under his breath.  
  
"Hmm?" The driver glanced up at the mirror. Sal caught his attention, but he hoped the guy won't ask about the mask.  
  
"oh uh, nothing." Sal paused, making his voice sound a little higher pitched. The driver looked back to the road, scratching his peach fuzzed chin. By the looks of his eyes, Sal didn't see any suspicion towards his prosthetic. He figured maybe as an Uber driver, the guy had driven for other "weirdos" before.  
  
"Do you know anything about the casino?" the blunette asked.  
  
"Nothing other than being a place to waste money on games," the driver commented flatly. "I'm not a big fan of gambling. The money these days can't be pawned for "luck" and "chance" like that red-wearing mother fucker says too many times on television."  
  
"I get that", Sal said, twirling the end of his French braid.  
  
"You planning on doing just that, or that's none of my biz?"  
  
"No no, it's cool. I'm meeting a friend there", Sal answered.  
  
"Ah, sweet", the drive replied. "Hopefully they'll meet you at the entrance…"  
  
"What makes you say that?"  
  
"Buddy, take my word for it. There are sometimes crooked bastards that go in casinos", the driver said.  
  
"You sound like you've had bad experiences with casinos in the past"  
  
"Yeah… but THIS one is a bit different. Just be careful there ok?" the man said looking back at Sal through the mirror.  
  
Sal only nodded. It was nice to meet a stranger like this. When they don't ask or comment about "the mask". On top of that, the Uber driver cares enough to tell him to be safe. Casinos do tend to have patrons who like to drink a little too much, and from Sal's experience with his father, alcohol-abuse is such a thing. Substance abuse can turn into abuse against the substance user if they let it. That's how Sal wound up with a nearly halved face, his mother paralyzed from the waist down, and his father… he doesn't even know. He just wasn't normal after the wreck. Sal had been "lucky" to survive so much afterward. Will it still be on his side at the Red Eyes Casino?  
  
The driver pulls up to an opening gate, surrounding probably the biggest parking lot Sal had ever seen. The casino would take up half of a football field, while the parking lot could fill one. At least it's built where more trees are cut down to offer space. The overhang was lit with hundreds of Broadway lightbulbs on the ceiling, not too bright to blind someone but bright enough to illuminate off of the cars passing by. The Uber driver slowly gassed forward behind a line of cars. One hummer limousine in front of them stopped to let a small group of people walk out, wearing masks either made of paper mache or plastic. Some painted over with rhinestones, other just all black or white with names signed over them.  
  
"Ey, I guess they've got a Mardi Gras or Carnivale party," the driver chimed.  
  
"Marty-what?" Sal asked.  
  
"Look it up," the other man said, then turned to face Sal as he parked the car. "Least you're not the only one with a mask, huh?"  
  
"y…yeah", Sal answered. He felt his chest tighten from increased anxiety. Sure he could blend in perfectly, but there is always that chance of running into trouble. The chance of someone wanting to look under his mask, being mocked for covering scars and having to explain his existence to those who don't even care--  
  
"Hey, take this", a voice snapped Sal out of his trance. The driver gave him a cheap-looking business card with a name and number. Jacob, Uber associate.  
"Call me when you're ready to leave, or if something happens. Ok?" Jacob said.  
  
Sal took it with a small nod. He really isn't used to being offered help, or from someone who genuinely means it. At least he THINKS Jacob meant it. His voice was as flat as it had been during the twenty-minute drive to the casino.  
  
"…thanks Jacob", Sal spoke softly.  
  
Jacob nods and gets out to open the car door for Sal.  
  
"H-hey, you don't have to-"  
  
"Go on, your friend is waiting", Jacob retorted. He stood as Sal stepped out of the car, bushing down his dress and looking as "normally feminine" as he could. Ashley had never seen him wear anything like this dress, so hopefully, she won't notice him inside the place.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this Chapter felt rushed. I've had a lot going on at home but I thank YOU the reader, as well as KinaDarklight for your patience. We'll do our best to post on time from here on out, and there will be a bit of action in the next chapter we are both planning.
> 
> Again, thanks fo the reader, and see you in the next one!
> 
> Ciao~
> 
> -J3nna


	4. Chapter Four : "Casino Boogie"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ((HHHHH-- here it is folks! ^^'
> 
> I apologize to Kina and you, our readers, for the delay. Only due to some issues going on my end. Personal and job-wise. But things have settled down now, and we'll be RIGHT back on schedule!
> 
> BIG thank you to all of the positive feedback on our AU fanfiction so far!! Kina showed me and I nearly yelped with joy like "THEY LIKE IT! THEY REALLY LIKE IT!!!" (which movie is that quote from? XD). Again, full credit goes to the LOVELY Kina Darklight for the idea of this AU. It's a real honor and pleasure to work with them on this, making this onto an actual AU, and seeing the comments just lifts our hearts so much! Thank you for your patience and continued support! 
> 
> See you in the next chapter!!
> 
> -J3nna))

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **TRIGGER WARNING**  
> Sexual assault  
> &  
> Depressive thoughts  
> Towards the end of this chapter.
> 
> Please read at your own risk  
> -J3nna

"Welp… here we go…" Sal thought to himself. As he kept staring at the elaborate dresses and festive masks worn by the men and women, Sal's boots began to trot towards the gathering group. Purple, green, gold, red, black and white colors in patterns that Sal didn't know existed. Few of the patterns on their attire made his normal and glass eye hurt. When he stared at the checkerboard red, black and white, Sal could see dots and circles that weren't there between the four-way spaces. He didn't think that optical illusions were possible with just one eye. However, he was prone to seeing other things from it in the past. An imaginary 18-wheeler coming from the corner of his single eye. Followed by the suffocating feeling of being inside of a giant can that begins to collapse from the outside. Sal's post-trauma, albeit terrifying to experience, had become a pain in his ass to deal with. His anxiety medications keep him calm during the day when these happen. At night, however, it's nearly impossible to sleep with the sensation of certain doom, unable to breathe from irrational panic and you can't explain why or what caused it.

Sal eventually blended in with the crowd of masked individuals. He caught a few peculiar glances from the pairs of eyes beyond paper machete and plastic masks. Bedazzled and painted, somewhere even modeled after animals. Quite a fascinating exposure to different styles and cultural inspiration behind the masks. Then you have Sal Fisher, with the only thing interesting about his face cover is the beige-pink piece that was glued after a certain asshole punched it in half. What started with a few choice words with each other, ended with one middle schooler with a broken knuckle, and Sal with a broken mask. To his surprise, Sal's model clay with super glue held together with the rest of his prosthetic ever since that happened.

While everybody patiently waited in line, Sal could see flashing lights beyond the dark-tinted windows. Behind them, are probably seizure-inducing neon lights and bulbs, pulsating brightly from every single gambling machine. He could already smell the dank stench of nicotine and rum. Seems legal adults have a real good time abusing their bad habits in this place. Sal thought about Jacob and how he wished him good luck. There's no telling what sorts of people he could bump into. Who Ashley may have to cater to… And who Mr. Red Eyes himself could be luring in.

A blonde and tan-skinned youngster leaned against the window. Toothpick in his mouth, moving side to side as he looked at each person's I.D. card with dejected hazel eyes, waving his up in approval for the patron to enter. Sal may have a weakness for the "bad-boy type" when it comes to men, but this punk… would be less than likely to tell every interested suitor to go fuck off. His blonde hair was a mop swooped on the right side of his face. Tattoos over his neck, one spelling the word "sinner" in cursive, with others hidden under his rolled-up sleeves and half-buttoned up shirt. Quarter-sized gauges and a pair of brass knuckles hanging off of a golden chain around his neck. Sal wondered how much more terrifying this dude could be when he's mad.

Suddenly, a much taller gentleman wearing a tiger mask trips over, catching himself by his hands. 

"Goin' somewhere, bitch?" the blonde barked as he stood over the man on the ground. 

"THE HELL?" The opposite stood up onto his feet, towering over the tanned male, like Goliath. 

"You're I.D. is expired, numbnuts! Get to the DMV and come back with a fresh badge!" he said.

"How-- YOU DIDN'T HAVE TO TRIP ME YOU LITTLE--" As the taller raised his fist for a punch, the smaller yet tougher decided to throw a knee straight to his pelvis. David triumphs as Goliath doubles over after that blow.

"Not my fault you don't know how to keep your shit up to date!" the blonde yacked. He looked up at the lined-up crowd, most of who were in shock of the display. 

"That goes for ALL of you! 'Specially the newcomers. If you're legal AND unexpired, you're alright. Oh, and if you try to fight or smuggle shit in this hell hole, that's an automatic ban!"

The humiliated taller man stood up to take his leave, stumbling back outside. The blonde leaned back against the tinted window wall and glanced at Sal, who was next in line. The blunette swallowed a lump in his throat as he handed his I.D. to the brawler security guard.

Not taking a second to look at Sal's mask, the blonde glanced at the I.D. card, but with a cringed disgusted look… Sal's Driver's License had his actual, half-mangled face on it, required by law so that no one will become suspicious of the prosthetic. Plus there is a special medical symbol next to his name.

"…the fuck is this?" the blonde demanded, glaring through Sal's eye holes.

"This uh… this is kind of a mask but it covers my wounds," Sal explained, already self-conscious.

Hearing a masculine voice from a feminine physique, the tanned man's skin must've turned white. It isn't uncommon for Sal to encounter someone who had a distaste for cross-dressing. It's something else to see someone actually look like they've seen a ghost. Just before Sal could find the blonde's shock to be funny, he was then badgered with

"WHAT THE FUCK??? WHY ARE YOU WEARING A FUCKING DRESS IF YOU'RE A DUDE?!?! THAT SHIT'S WEIRD OH MY GOD!!!" 

"Yeah, sure, let the whole god damned world hear you LOUD and clear-" Sal paused when he was roughly grabbed by the arm, met with piercing hazels.

"I've dealt with a lot of mentally ill retards, but YOU? You've GOT to be worst!"

The line of people behind Sal were mixed with concern, fear, disgust at either Travis or Sal's nature, or simply watching out of amusement. 

Sal yanked his arm away from the blonde punk, looking back at him even though he wants to fucking book it.

"You are abusing your authority here! And so what if I'm wearing a dress?! I have a right to express myself just like YOU have a right to be a self-absorbed PRICK who likes to hurt people!" Sal scorned in a slightly shaking voice. His heart was racing. This was the first time in a while that he had gotten into a physical altercation. 

"Tough nuts, faggot! Why don't you go outside, get hit by a bus, and maybe THAT will fix your fugly--"

"TRAVIS!!! Stop it!" Another voice boomed in the room, coming from a red-haired gentleman wearing standard slacks and bow tie. He adjusted his glasses and marched up behind Travis, crossing his arms and giving him a look similar to a disappointed parent.

"We've had this talk before, Phelps. Brute force won't get you a raise," the ginger scolded.

The blonde, now identified as Travis, rolled his eyes at him.  
"Don't you have a table to watch, nerd?" 

"Yes, but if I have to keep an eye on YOU because you can't seem to control yourself, maybe I should inform The Boss about your misbehavior and let him decide what to do with you next…" the ginger said in a calm tone. Somehow that was enough to make Phelps back down a bit. He took out the toothpick in his mouth and started to clean under his nails with it.

"NEXT in line," Travis spoke out loud, apparently hinting for the lady after Sal to show him some form of identification. The redhead, giving Sal a gentle tug by the hand, led him inside the casino. The neon and electric lights were just as intense as he had anticipated. Just as bright as the 18-wheeler in his dreams. Gambling machines blaring with ridiculously loud noises, the smell of cigarettes, alcohol and future regrets lingered in the air. A few other masked patrons were standing around, talking over small glasses of booze and burning chemical sticks. Sal's nose started to burn the more it sniffed the pungent air. He lifted his wrist to take in the scent of his perfume. 

Huh… Ash was right. It DOES stay long with petroleum jelly.

The ginger gentleman stopped and turned to Sal with a soft smile. His neatly trimmed 5 o'clock shadow curved with his lips underneath.   
"I apologize for your encounter. Travis just… takes his job a little too seriously," he said, adjusting his glasses.

"O-oh, well thanks for stepping in," Sal replied with a nod.

"Part of my job is to treat our customers with respect by making them feel welcomed. Unlike Travis, I'm your equal, not your superior," he said, extending a hand towards the blunette.

"Todd Morrison, at your service!"

"Sal Fisher," Sal greeted, firmly grasping Todd's hand in return.

"Good handshake Mr-- Uh- Miss? Err-"

"Either is fine. I'm not picky with pronouns, heh," Sal said.

Todd rubbed his chin looking confused.  
"So… gender fluid?"

"In a way. I just dress like this to take attention away from… this," the blunette points to his prosthetic mask. 

"It's one thing to mock a facial cover, but completely different to put someone down for their preferred style. Therefore, being an LGBTQ member myself, I have no room to judge," Todd stated with a slight smile.

Sal felt safer with Todd after hearing that. 

"So, have you ever been to a casino before?" Todd asked.

"Nah, first time. Plus I saw the adds on my laptop and figured I would stop by, see what makes this place so… this," he said, gesturing the main floor behind him. He didn't want the flashing lights distracting him anymore.

Todd chuckled lightly.  
"Quite overwhelming, isn't it? Luckily, none of the other rooms are as effulgent."

Sal turned his head to the side, seeing a young woman dressed in a rather flirty outfit. A two-piece, with a pentagram holster strap in front, a frilly skirt that barely covers the upper thigh, fishnet leggings and tall red stilettos. Sal gasped when he saw that the lady had the exact same hair length as Ashley. But when she turned her head to the side, she looked nothing like his best friend. Hell, he couldn't imagine a tomboy like her wearing anything close to that style.

"Mr. Fisher?" Todd called to Sal, who looked back to the gentleman.

"S-sorry, I thought I saw someone familiar," he said.

"No need to be sorry. It wouldn't be a surprise if you knew at least ten in here. EVERYONE in Nockfell comes by the Red Eyes Casino to--" Todd exclaimed. 

"Test their luck. Got it…" Sal punctuated. Just as the advertisements say. 

"Exactly!" Todd said, then motions to one of the vacant card tables.  
"Care to test yours at my table, Mr. Fisher?"

Sal glances to the table hesitantly shook his head.  
"I don't know the first thing about any games in here…"

"I am required to offer some trial lessons on how to play for our first-timers," Todd said as he walks over to his table, looking to Sal to join him.

Well… what does he have to lose? 

Literally, nothing, considering his unbroken streak of good luck. The "streak" could get him into trouble with gamblers. The Uber driver, Jacob, mentioned that fights were something to watch out for at this place. Fueled by booze and wasted money, hoping to win more than what they bet. Scary mixture…

"Maybe that's why Travis is security here… takes an asshole to take another one down."

Now that he had thought about this… Sal really has NOTHING to lose. 

He hesitantly walks towards the poker table and looked over the setup. 

A deck of cards with the Red Eyes symbol on the back of it, some stacked up poker chips with the same logo in black, crimson, gold and a few purple chips, and a few ashtrays sitting near the edge of the half-circle table. God, Sal hopes it isn't anything as complicated as Poker. He isn't that strategic with cards.

Todd stands in front of the center as he shuffles the cards.  
"This is a game called Black Jack 21. A reasonably easy game for beginner gamblers, in my opinion. Also good mathematical practice," he said as he fans the cards across the table, revealing the face of the suite.

"Math?" Sal asked

Todd picks up and reveals a black Queen of clubs, then shows it to Sal.

"So, each Royalty suite has the value of 10, while others such as 1, 2, 3, and so on, regardless of their suite, indicate their own value. The key is to beat my hand without going over the number 21. For example," Todd states as he pulls out a random card from the deck after another shuffle. He places a red 7 diamond next to the queen of clubs.

"Keeping in mind the value of the Royalty Suite, adding 7, equals 17. If it is greater than my hand, you win. If the value is lower, you do not win," Todd looks up at Sal gauging any confusion he may have. Which… is hard to do with the prosthetic mask.

Sal only nodded in response. Being a visual learner, this was a good opportunity to learn the game.

Todd proceeds to pull out a red Ace card.

"The ace, adds a twist. It can be valued at either 1 or 11, depending on the cards you already have. Let's say you draw this ace along with-" he shuffles then reveals a 5 of clubs card, placing it next to the Ace.

"This hand can be valued either as 5+1, or 5+11. Depending on how lucky you feel, you may value your ace as an 11, making this a 'soft 16' Since I do not know, nor SHOULD I know, about the value of your Ace, it cannot 'break' or beat my hand".

"So I don't tell how much my Ace is?" Sal asked

Todd shakes his head.   
"In this game, the less you speak, the better. Now as the game progresses, you will be asked to be given another card, called a 'hit', to increase your value. Depending on my own hand, which is…" the dealer flips over one of his cards revealing a 10 of Spades.  
"Dealer Up card of 10. My other card will remain face down until everyone else is satisfied with their hands."

"But what if I value my ace as 11 making it a decently high enough number to beat yours?" Sal asked. 

Todd adjusts his glasses while looking at Sal.  
"You can refuse a 'hit', or the offer for another card from the dealer. So if you say 'hit', or simply tap the table, you get another card. If you say 'stand', that lets me know that you are going to 'stand' by your decision to keep your value as is, and hope it will be a winning hand," Todd said.

"Ahh." Sal nodded at the explanation.  
"And if my hand is too high? Above 21?"

Todd reaches to take away the cards in front of Sal.  
"That is considered a 'bust', meaning that you lost the bet. Whatever you placed is taken away and put beside me for the winner of the round to claim," he said.

"That's… straight forward." Sal lightly retorted.   
"Too bad I have nothing to bet--"

The ginger dealer smirked and placed a purple chip in front of the blunette, with a number 1,000 in the middle of the Red Eyes logo.

"A small welcome gift," Todd said with a smile.  
"Any questions so far?"

Just before Sal could ask about the game, a deep voice rumbled from behind him in his seat.

"May I join in?"

Turning around to identify the voice, Sal's throat hitched when he saw a tall man wearing a bright red suit. He thought it was that guy from the commercial. 

"Fuck, what's his name again?" 

Todd smiled and nodded at the man as he said, "Be my guest, Mr. Packerton!"

Mr. Packerton took a seat next to Sal, who noticed the mask he wore over his face. It was colored in black, made of plastic and resembled a bird. Just like the ones the Plague Doctors wore, except the small rhinestones lined along the 12-inch beak. He removes the mask revealing a tired, road-mapped face. His hair and handlebar mustache were bleached white. The older man reached down for a case of cigars, putting one in between his thin, chapped lips before lighting the end of it. 

Something about him made Sal uneasy… the looks don't bother him. But the fact that Mr. Packerton had this stench of nicotine and… something else, which would make the nose holes of his prosthetic close up if they could.

Todd himself caught a whiff of his odor but chose to ignore it as he neatly stacked his cards again.  
"How have you been, sir?" he asked politely.

Mr. Packerton blew a thick cloud of smoke through his mouth before giving an irritated grunt.  
"Wife kicked me out of the house again. So it's been just me and my mad money tonight," he said. That voice of somebody who not only is covering heartbreak and disappointment, but also the fact that his lungs are barely functioning from the chemicals forced into them. 

Todd sighs sympathetically, shaking his head.  
"Sorry to hear that, Mr. Packerton. I'm sure Mrs. Packerton will-"

"You leave the sorries to my new lady friend and I, got it?" the old man growled out. 

Sal felt a hand rubbing and caressing his thigh, down to his knee, and a sickening confident grin from the pruning croon next to him. It felt like sandpaper on his skin. Rough and calloused. He shivered in his skin, but stood upright in his seat, minding his own business and paying no mind to the unnecessary attention given to his leg. 

Todd, on the other hand, peered at Mr. Packerton, clearing his throat.  
"So shall we start the game?"

The old man didn't seem to hear the dealer. His eyes were too busy scanning over Sal's form, the way his legs are crossed, and thinking of God-knows-what he would do to them. 

"What's your name, pretty girl? I'll bet you aren't as cold-hearted her, huh?~" 

The more he mumbled, the more his breath reeked… 

The same hand traveled up to Sal's arm, caressing behind it and getting too close the side of his chest, thinking that something else is underneath the dress.

"Heh, not a lot of padding, but you'll do just-"

"Mr. Packerton…" Todd sternly called out.  
"I know you are hard of hearing, but you are making this person feel incredibly uncomfortable!"

No response. The man's hand kept traveling up and down Sal's arm, probably wishing it could feel someplace else on him.

The more he stared, the more he felt…

And the more it pissed off the blunette. No one gave this bastard permission to touch the skin that he so proudly showed off. Compared to the skin he hides under his mask… He bet the pervert wouldn't be touchy-feely after seeing it.

"I'm probably gonna regret this later…"

So Sal calmly reached behind his head to unclip his prosthetic buckles, swiftly removing it from his face and turned towards the old man. The look on Mr. Packerton's face could only depict one word in the dictionary: 

YIKES

"Like what you see, you sleazy FUCK?!?!?" he yelled out. 

There was no force that could've possibly pushed the old man out of his chair. But somehow Mr. Packerton fell backward on his chair, landing on his back and dropping his burning cigar on the red carpet. He coughed out the smoke trapped in his throat as he picked himself back up with the help of Todd. 

"W-W-What the HELL????" he yelled out, catching attention from a few others in the large room. The old man shook as he saw Sal gingerly place his prosthetic back over his scarred face. Shaking and possibly beyond embarrassed from all of stares at him, Packerton ripped his arm away from Todd's hands, making sure he didn't fall again.

Sal swore that he would never do anything like that. He never HAD to since men and women were often too scared to approach him. Except at Addison's Café, where the patrons treated him with more respect after working there for a year. How could someone start feeling him up after only being at the new establishment for twenty minutes?

"GAH! Keep that thing muzzled up, will ya Morison?!?!" Packerton barked as he started to limp away, snatching his cheap Plague Doctor's mask from the table.

Todd sighed and went over to Sal, giving him a gentle pat on his shoulder which made Sal instinctively flinch.

"I-I am SO sorry about that, Mr. Fisher! I'll make sure Travis knows about this and-"

"Todd, relax. He's gone, so let's play the game…" Sal told Morrison in a monotone voice.

He felt proud for not using violence to put a stop to the harassment… yet, it hurts him to know that his face could nearly give an old man a heart attack. It had made a little girl cry, got him bullied for years and permanently marked him as "undesirable". None of those were anywhere near as crippling as almost killing a man just by removing the mask… Seeing Packerton's skin go white, like a deer in the headlight… just embarrassed the shit out of him.

Todd even saw it… 

The dealer sighed and walked back in front of the table, shuffling his cards. An awkward silence hung in the air. One pretending that nothing had happened, while the other fought back tears behind his eyes AND mask.   
Sal wanted to disappear, hide in a hole, just NOT be anywhere other than in his room, hugging Gizmo and letting his sobs soothe him to sleep. 

"Mr. Fisher…" Todd spoke softly. "This… may not make you feel better, but if you'd like to take your chip and cash it in at the front desk, you're more than welcome to do so."

"$1,000 won't really fix my face…." Sal choked out. He left the purple Poker chip on the table, grabbed his clutch and started to walk away. Feeling emotionally and mentally drained. Ashley, wherever she is, can just respond to a wall of texts sent from him, instead of just trying to find her himself. 

Suddenly, another chip rolled out onto the floor and dropped to one side in front of Sal's feet. A stray hand with a fancy leather glove offered it to Sal. Looking up to who it belonged to, Sal's eyes narrowed as they were stared back by a paired of almond-shaped brown ones, slightly curved from a buck-toothed grin.

"How about $2,000…?"


	5. Chapter Five : "Ace of Spades"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here it is!!!!
> 
> I hope everyone is staying safe at home during the Quarantine. It sucks now, but I feel like this will all cool down soon before Christmas. Kina and I are holed up in our individual homes, trying to stay busy and in touch with our family/friends. The stress had been REAL on us both, let me tell you. It's hitting me personally since I found out that my 17-year-old nephew has a "small case" of COVID-19. He's ok so far, resting at home and isolated (with his PS4 and Nintendo Switch). 
> 
> As we "ride out the wave" of COVID-19, Kina and I are still gonna add more chapters to the PokerFace AU. Might be slow still, since we're making sure that our families, friends and our own selves safe during this difficult time. We hope that you all do the same as well. 
> 
> If you are struggling with anxiety (like I have) during this pandemic, feel free to comment on here! Tell us how you're holding up and how you're staying busy (^_^) We love you all, and as walways, thank you for your patience!
> 
> -Jenna

"O-oh! Boss! Good to see you, sir!" Todd yells from his gaming table. The tall man dressed in a red suit shot a grin at the ginger-haired man and waved back. No doubt, that this guy, casually walking with the fancy cane in his hand, was Larry Johnson. All in red, and probably with an all-high-and-mighty attitude.

"I told ya before, Toddy. No need to call me 'sir' in here. We're all here for our customers," he said as he pressed the extra purple chip in Sal's hand. 

Sal wasn't sure whether to take this as a complimentary gift… or one out of pity… since this bastard overheard his loud thinking. He didn't want to sound like a pity party to anyone else than Todd. The fact that the OWNER heard that made Sal even more embarrassed. He tried giving the chip back to Larry.

"That isn't necessary, Larry," Sal said, but received a leather finger pressed against his plastic lip, and a thick caterpillar bow raised in response. Johnson was quite a handsy fellow, and this made Sal nervous… he even blushed underneath his mask.

"Thank you for using my real name, Blue. Also, it's part of my job as the owner of this fine establishment to make sure ALL of our patrons feel right at home here. Doesn't matter if this is your first time, or your hundredth time paying us a visit. I, along with Toddy here, treat you the same way," Larry said with a wink.

The red-clad man just beamed with charisma. His sharp brown eyes glinted with mischief, long dark hair framing a triangular jawline, and tanned skin perfectly contrasted to the crimson garb. It's like meeting the Devil himself; hopelessly seduced and at his mercy.

Todd interrupts and waves the two over to his table.  
"So, are we still interested in a game, gentlemen?"

"You know… that's an idea," Larry said, looking back at Sal with a grin.  
"You wanna earn that chip and try to beat me at a game?"

A game against the owner of a casino? Yeah, no pressure, right Sal?

Sal started to shake his head hesitantly.   
"I-I might pass, actually."  
Not only is he trying to evade interaction with a hottie like Larry, but the guy literally has NO idea how low his chances of winning are. The guy could play half-assed the entire round but he'd STILL wind up winning. Tic-Tac-toe, Monopoly with his dad (whenever he isn't having a seizure). But that was in the past, and Sal never tried his luck in a casino. Could things change today? 

Larry slipped an arm around Sal's, linking their elbows together as if they were about to waltz. The more he touched Sal the more nervous he felt. Physical contact in general always made the blunnette uncomfortable, aside from it being from Gizmo and his parents. But this enthusiastic fellow is treating him like an old friend. Even if they had never met face-to-face.

"C'mon! Todd hardly had anybody at his spot this evening. Poor guy's been bored out of his gourd!" Larry said, to which Todd nods in agreement. Seeing that he really didn't have a choice, Sal conceded and took a seat across from Larry at the table as Todd shuffles the cards. He relayed the rules to Black Jack 21 in his head, while Larry lit a cigar between his lips. 

"Remember the rules, Sal? Or do you need another practice round?" Todd asked Sal, who gives him a thumbs up then spots Larry's relaxed posture across from him. He was hunched over, elbows far apart and arms wide open taking up nearly the whole quarter of the table. Sal's feelings caught the best of him again when he began to wonder how tight those arms would hold onto him. Being held close and taking in the scent of nicotine, mixed with a lighter smelling cologne. 

Dammit… am I really crushing on this guy?

"Mister. Fisher. You move," Todd said, snapping Sal out of his thoughts.  
Sal looked up at Morrison pointing to his two cards in front of him. If he were being honest with himself, Sal only remembered the rule of not getting over the number 21, and beating Todd's hand. The rest had slipped from his mind as he kept gawking at the snazzy tanned man in red. 

"Shit… what were the cues again? To pass or take a card? And how would he know if he needed to do either or?  
Not that is matters since I want to lose but... it would be insulting to Larry if I don't act like I don't want to be here."

Todd swiftly slides the next card next to Sal, giving him a thumbs up and a questioning look.  
"Does this end your turn?"

Sal nods. He's hoping that this hard hand will go over 21. Depending on what his other cards read. He could count the Ace of Spades as either a 1 or 11, as Todd explained earlier. That tip popped into his head while Todd dealt with Larry during his turn.

"Nah, I'm good with what I've got," Johnson said, inhaling the cigar through his lips.

Todd, facing both of the men, adjusted his glasses and said, "On three, let's reveal your hands. Ready?"

"Ready Freddy!" Larry cheered in a low tone. Sal thought at first he choked on his own puff until a thick cloud of gray, illuminated by neon slot machines behind him. Sal nods, secretly hesitant about the cards he could have. Anxiety was getting to him again, but the scent of Larry's smoke made him feel calm while in the moment. A warm, tingling sensation going in and down his windpipe. Not a bother to Sal at all since he's already gotten used to the stench of tobacco. He'll still shower later since it sticks to clothing.

Todd

Both of the players reveal their hands; Larry showed a 7 of hearts paired with a 10 of diamonds.

"Not a bad hand, Sir-- er, Larry!" Todd said before turning to Sal.  
"Good luck you two!"

Larry chuckles, "Toddy, you forget where we are? EVERYONE is lucky here. Remember Sally," he says looking over at the masked blunnette across from him, "May not be the first, second, or one-millionth try, but just know that it's possible to have it with you. Even when you least expect it!"

Sal could've laughed if his mask allowed a bit more room for his face to move. Painfully ironic, considering Sal's past and present.

"Lady Luck" saved his life more than once, but had risked it twice as many times before. It started with the car wreck that mangled his face and mentality while it fucked up his parents' mobility. Although having an injury so bad that it requires a prosthetic to prevent exposure to airborne infection (and nightmares for everyone around him), Sal wouldn't count that as luck. It's more like a cruel joke... Yes, he survived a near-fatal crash, but he never felt like he would truly "Live" after it. Feeling more like a sideshow, a foreign object that other people don't understand. Most times, they didn't want to understand, and would often comment rudely about the "Sally Faced Freak" sitting closeby. School, sometimes in public, people judged harshly. Sometimes with words, other times with physical shoving when he got too close walking in a crowd on the sidewalk in Nockfell. Sal survived alright, but the torture of his past had never stopped for him. 

In fact... he often wondered if it would have been best if he had died in the car crash. He wouldn't have to live day by day, feeling like a turtle in a shell that everyone pokes fun.  
Then again, who would take care of his parents, Gizmo, and make sure Ash is staying safe? Sal truly has nothing to lose besides the plastic chips beside him. 

As he flipped over the third card... 

Todd: 8 of hearts + 10 of diamonds = 18

Larry: 9 of diamonds + a 4 of clubs = 13

Sal: Ace of Spades and a 10 of clubs

"Wait... did I lose? Can I say that I count the Ace as a one and be done with it?"

"Ah, a soft hand I see!  
Todd exclaimed leaning over to Sal  
"So from here, you can either get a hit, count your Ace as a one, and hope that your next card will get closer to, but not break, the number 21. Or, simply forfeit, surrender your chips to Larry, and end the game."

In Sal's mind, the choices are really; Forfeit and run like a bitch, breaking his luck, or stay and hope the next card is of lesser value. The first option sounds cut-and-dry easy, but Sal isn't compelled to leave like that knowing his main purpose for being here in the first place. Finding Ash. Then his curiosity of whether his Luck had been, or rather, CAN be changed got him sidetracked.

"I u-uhh..." Sal, choking on his words from anxiety, knocked on the top of the table as Larry did before.

"One more hit coming up!" Todd said with enthusiasm, sliding the card towards Sal. Larry leaned over on his side of the table, seemingly anxious to see what card his opponent would reveal.

He counted down to 1 in his head, and Sal revealed... an eight of clubs.  
So the Ace is now a 1, plus the 10 of clubs and the eight of clubs...

"Thaaaaaat's 19! Mister Fisher wins this round!" Todd says aloud clapping his hands for Sal along with Larry.

He's glad the mask had hidden his lips wording the word SHIT from them.

"Nice one, Sally!" Larry said as he pushed his stack of chips to Sal, adding to his winnings.

It gave Sal a heart attack when he saw 500 on each of Larry's chips. He mistook the 500 "Eye Points" for dollars. Hell, it sounds like a dream come true to others but to him, it'd be like robbing the bank.

"Wait, so you use a point system?" Sal asked Larry. The man in red propped himself on the sid eof the table next to Sal, his pant legs dangling over the edge.

"Yessir! Every 100 Eye Points gets you about 10 dollars. You won't see folks with their pockets full of these, but they're not rare either. They're for VIP, and the regulars only bet with cash," he said as he smoked more of his cigar.

"That's... unusual for a Casino," Sal said.

Larry shugged as he released another smoke cloud through his nose holes. Holding his finger down on one side to prevent the thick smoke from suffocating Sal.  
"Easier for us. Plus it's saved alot of fights for the patrons," he said.

Todd cleared his throat as he gestured to Larry.  
"Are uhh, we up for another game or..?"

"Up to Sally here. He seemed a bit bored with this game," he said winking at Sal. "Maybe some of those higher-risk games like Poker or placing bets in Digital Derby Racing."

"Why not the slot machines?" Sal asked, which got him a cocked eyebrow from Larry.

"BORIIIIING, but uh, yeah sure," Larry commented as he exstinguished his cigar on the ash tray. He sets his feet back on the floor, offering his elbow to Sal once again like the usual gentleman he is. "Shall we?"

The masked blunnette bit his lip underneath his mask as he obliged, hooking his arm around Larry's elbow. Being a shoter human being next to a taller and... slightly masculine one, as Sal felt a bit around Larry's arm as they walked towards the slots section. The owner of the place grinned, taking notice of his new guest's grip tightening aorund his arm.

"By the way, I don't even work out," Larry bluntly said, catchin Sal off guard.

The mask hardly hid any of the blood rushing to Sal's cheeks. Larry, on the other hand, saw right through him then chuckled a bit as he gestured Sal to a bright neon slot machine.  
"How about cranking this one for a bit?" he said charismatically.

As Sal took a seat, seeing Larry insert a quarter into the machine.  
"So, where're you from?"

Sal turned to Larry, hands in his lap, trying to look a bit more feminine since there are more people piling in to the room.   
"New Jersey. I had been here for a little over a year now," he said.

The red-clad gentleman nods, Taking a seat next to Sal.   
"Cool cool. So have you gambled back in Jersey?"

The blunnette shook his head.  
"Nope. I wasn't 'at that age' yet to do that."

"That answers my question about your age. But I'm impressed at how you won that single round. You must have great intuition."

Sal shrugged at the comment.  
"Just a feeling. It's a game of chance isn't it?"

Lary nods, then looking past Sal's shoulder he waves his hand and called over a lady in a black waitress dress.  
"Heya Ashley!!!"

Sal's head snapped towards Larry's line of sight, and sees Ash walking towards them, holding a tray of a few half-empty glasses of alcoholic bevages.

"What do you want, La--" her yes narowed when they landed on Sal's mask.  
"SAL?!?!"

Sal gave her a light wave of his hand.  
"Hey stranger."

"What are you doing here?!?" Ash demanded.

Leather finges snapped and Larry made a grunt noise to get her attention.  
"Don't worry about that. Just worry about your job, missy. Got that?"

The brunnette sighed and asked, "What can I get you two?"

"Two sherlie Temples, and a single Budweiser for myself," Larry said.

Taking a mental note on Larry's order, Ash leaned in to whisper in Sal's ear.  
"Meet me with Todd when he lets you off."  
She turned around with her tray before being stopped by Larry with a loud whistle of his lips.

"Changed my mind! No Budweiser. I'd hate to be drunk around our guest here," he said as he pats Sal's knee.

"Noted," Then Ash walks off, high heels clanking across the polished floor.

Sal sighed, not really wanting Ash to leave that soon... and being told to meet with her AND Todd, after how Larry spoke to her, made him uneasy. The patons seemed happy inside the casino from what Sal had seen... but what about the workers? Ashley being one of them, seeing how she was upset about finding him here, was proof enough that something fishy was going on behind the doos of management.

His thoughts were interrupted by another pat on his knee. More firm that time. Larry had given Sal a grin before looking back at the slot machine.  
"Sooooo, wanna crank this machine like you cranked my arm?"

Sal let out an audible "Wha--" after hearing that line. The tanned man chuckled at his reaction.

"Just picking on ya! And don't think that mask can hide that blush mister~" Larry further teased.

(WILL UPDATE LATER)


	6. Chapter Six: "You Got Lucky"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ⛔Trigger Warning⛔  
> Mentions of substance abuse. Read at your own risk. And this chapter focuses on Sal's past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo, somebody asked how I keep naming the chapters. They're all casino/gambling songs. Although I did swap a word or two to fit the story chapters :3 This one was sung by Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers, if anyone is curious.
> 
> ALSO- We have a discord server! Feel free to join here https://discord.gg/jvRq3qN to chat with the authors, discuss future chapter ideas, submit fan art, and more! 
> 
> If the link doesn't work, send me a message here and I'll send another one. With that said, enjoy the chapter!))

"Sarah... Sarah!!!"   
"For the third time, Dad. My name isn't Sarah..." 

Sal said to his father, trying to keep himself from getting too emotional about his condition... He was sitting across from the muttering middle aged man inside of room number 633. Well... How ironic that that number on the clock, the last thing he remembered seeing before the accident. A car wreck that had made Henry David Fisher from a light-hearted yet stubborn man, into an unpredictable ticking time bomb. On the night he and his wife and six-year-old son wanted to celebrate his month long sobriety, as announced at an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting. 

It called for a well-deserved family night outing. well-known  
His wife, Diane, was beaming with pride for his one month anniversary of his Alcoholics Anonymous Sobriety pledge. It was a real struggle at first. 

A few nights of intense arguing while their young Sal was trying to sleep, and even one threat of throwing all of Henry's progress out the window with a divorce. Who knew what made Henry snap back into reality, while driving away from the house, not wanting to hear anymore of Diane crying. But in the back of Henry's mind, the only part of the brain that was over the influence... that was the last straw. 

He already knew he had a problem with the stuff, so did Diane.   
"It's just fiery liquid! Ain't gonna let it get the best of me!"  
Said the same man who did let it... 

Alcohol may not be sentient but it can and will turn you into a different person once you get hooked. You build a craving, and then a reliance on it after a certain amount of time, because it makes you feel good. It makes the mind blurry, relaxing it to not think so much. Not to But without any restraint, control and having the mind over matter,   
Feeling more regret than ever in his life, Henry pulled out from the local pub parking lot and raced home, back to his family who he valued more than booze... Who he SHOULD'VE put first, paid more mind to rather than anticipating and planning an indulgence in his next glass of rum. took the pledge and granted his full compliance to the Alcoholics Anonymous Sobriety program. Just when he was already giving up on his life and family by giving into the bottle, Henry began on the road to recovery to save his marriage. To be the man that Sal wouldn't be afraid of every other night when he had Member's Mark in his hand. To BE there for his son and wife instead of being passed out on the couch. Enough was enough, and the painful thought of Diane leaving him with his boy made him all the more wide eyed and focused.  
Henry pushed himself to resist the craving, the painful itch in his throat that anticipated the warm flow of liquor. Turns out it wasn't just the booze that Henry needed a distraction from... 

The group, or "class", at the AA had helped Henry a lot, teaching him ways to break the habit. He wasn't alone in his battle against addiction. That was the first thing the counselors told their clients. The feeling of having a support group gave Henry relief, and the people in it would also converse with Diane and Sal. He felt like he was part of another family. After graduating from the program, he Still felt that connection with some of the folks that were in the program with him. They all exchanged numbers so that if they ever have a "relapse", they have someone to talk to. 

Henry was proud, and finally became a hisband, father and man that his family deserved... Until...

"Henry, we needed this so bad. For the first time in so long, I didn't have to worry about driving you home!" Diane said with a smile as she looked out the car window, then up at the rear view mirror to see her six-year-old Sal fast asleep in the back seat.

Henry, who's eyes were trained on the road in front of him, glances with a smirk at his wife.  
"But you had your driver's license just in case, didn't you?"

"I never leave home without it. And it isn't because I don't trust you, it's just-"

"Diane, baby, I know," Henry said in a gentle tone. No longer sounding angry or feeling attacked like in the past. He also looked up at the mirror to see his son sleeping peacefully. 

"The way I see it, you have less trust placed in my HABIT, than in me as a man. If it were on me, than you would be the one behind the wheel, yeah?"

Diane nodded.  
"So many fights... half of them were in this car, weren't they?"

"Yep..."

"I don't mean to dwell in the past or... Bring up bad memories, but it makes me feel SO damn thankful..." Diane rested her chin on her hand, with an elbow on the car door handle and let out a soft sigh. 

"Oh- I almost forgot! Look in the glove box, babe," Henry said in an excited but hushed voice, while Sal stirred in his sleep.

Diane reached into the front glove box, taking out a small gift bag. She began to open it as Henry glanced briefly with anticipation, still paying attention to his driving. 

"Awww Hen- you didn't need to buy me any... thing..." Diane was lost for words as she unwrapped the thin gift paper, revealing a sterling silver necklace , with a heart and Angel wings pendant. An inscription in the middle of the heart that reads "God's Greatest Gift". Diane stared at the necklace while Henry smiled weakly, obviously proud of the reaction he got from his wife.

"yes I did... Because I want You to have something to remind you of how much of a gift You are... You really are, Diane... You and Sal are a package deal and I never want you to forget that," he said.

Diane, choking back happy tears, leaned towards Henry to kiss his cheek.   
"I... Don't know what else to say, heh!"

"Don't have to. Now you can either put it on now or put it back in the bag. That silver is bright as shit in the corner of my eye," Henry joked.

"No joke. Well- you do have your brights on, that's part of it," Diane said with a smirk as she unzipped the lobster book to the necklace.

"Well... It's dark as shit out here. That ain't my fault." 

"I know babe. I had to push your button a little bit," she said as she moved her long, blonde hair to the side to clip the necklace behind her.

Henry, on the other hand, couldn't resist taking another look at Diane. Next to seeing his wife cuddle with Sal, he found it very pleasing to watch Diane put on jewelry around her neck. Especially one that he had given her. The way her hair moved, elegantly falling to the side and revealing the back and side of her neck. Henry already knew how lucky he was to marry a gorgeous lady like Diane, but that one simple act makes him feel even more in love for a reason he could never point out himself.

Meanwhile, still anxious to wear said necklace, Diane was having trouble with the clasp.  
"Of course it had to be lobster clasp..." She said, sounding frustrated. Making Henry smirk as he glances at her so-far failed effort.

In the backseat, Sal began to wake up. Rubbing his eye then glancing at the digital clock which reads...

6:33pm.

"Oh my- HENRY THE TRUCK!!!!"  
Diane yelled out.

Blinding white lights flooded the inside of their small Sudan car, followed by the war piercing sound of glass windows breaking. For Sal, at the age he was, it felt like a mere second when it had happened. A second before time itself has stopped... Like a pause in one of his tablet games. A pause while on the outside of the car, tires were screeching, the 18-wheeler had sandwiched the smaller vehicle against an electric pole and started to crush it like a beer can. When motion within the crash had finally stopped, Sal, barely awake after, managed to hear his father mutter out three words.

"Bright... as...shit..."

The headlights of the Truck still gleaming brightly through some of the now-open windows of the car. Bright... SO damn bright... But it didn't make Sal's eyes ache, even with them closed. The only thing he felt were the deep, bloody marks into his cheeks, forehead and left eye left by the scattered car window. 

"Bright as shit..."

Snapping back to reality, Sal Fisher had looked from the open door of room 633 to his wheelchair bound father, with both of his eyes squinted and looking around the nearly empty space.

"Sarah... Close that damn window please!" He yelled out to Sal.

"Dad... There isn't even a window," Sal said. In fact the lighting was barely enough to make his one real eye bothered. 

"S...Sarah, wherever that Damon bright light is coming from, just shut it off before you leave for school, ok?"

"I... sure thing dad, " Sal responded. 

Revisiting the past by himself made Sal lose track of time with his visit. The administrator gently knocked on the door, signalling for him to leave. 

The blue haired stood and waved at his father.  
"I'll try and be back later this week, dad... I love you."

Henry, looking up at Sal, still squinting his eyes, only stared at him out of confusion. The man who had a pair of baby blues that could look through a soul... Now empty and with barely any emotion in them.

Sal started to make his way out t the door, both hands in his pockets, and gave a light mod to the hospice administrator.

"Oh, and Sal- we added another p.i.l.l. to your father's prescription, " they said.

"...how much more will it take out of my bank?" Sal asked.

"I'm not sure. Check your insurance agent."

He signed and began to walk out. More money, more stress at his current job in Jersey. At the rate this went he had to withdraw Henry from the hospital. Seeing no improvements other than Henry being able to control his meltdowns. Memory, some motor skills and other basic needs could easily be handled by home health professionals. That's where Maple came in, offered Sal a fair price for being his father and mother's nurse while saving him SOME money for rent, food and other essentials for everyone in the house.

What made Sal leave...?


	7. A/N

Hello all our beautiful guest! We are so sorry there has been a big delay on the chapters. Lots of stuff has been going on not only with jobs and the world right now but emotional stuff as well. However we do want to get back into a schedule so that you all may get more of the story and see what happens next! That being said plot points and writing will be done soon so keep an eye out for the next chapter of Poker Face and thank you for being so patient with us! We love you all!

**Author's Note:**

> I do NOT own the song lyrics to "Poker Face", nor do I own rights to Gumi, Vocaloid or ANY related characters of the franchise. Besides, I'm JUST now slipping into the Vocaloid hole in 2020, thanks to KinaDarklight. Love everything about it, let me tell you (^w^) Anyway, the Prologue will include lyrics from the song "Pokerface" by Gumi, which inspired Kina to make this Sally Face Casino AU/story. I really tried to tie them in with the prologue 'cause I felt creative XD. We had been working together on this AU, writing and drawing art for this since November of last year, and we hope you will enjoy reading this as much as we enjoyed making it! So I'll shut my ass up and let you read our very own Sally Face: Poker Face AU -J3nna
> 
> So I was listening to Poker Face by Gumi at one point and decided to work with j3nna on this idea. This is a very big project that we are working on. We truly putting our all into this and chapters may be delayed, however the goal is to at least post one too two chapters every other weekend. I really hope that everyone enjoys and sticks around until it is complete. Official looks for each of the characters will be uploaded by j3nna eventually on our shared Deviantart page (nEKObUSHICommisions). Thank you for taking the time to read this note and enjoy. -Kina


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